Rose Colored Smiles
by orangemoon
Summary: Angel broods. Collins contemplates. Angel asks. Collins laughs. Angel pouts. Collins kisses and life goes on...


Collins sat on his office, checking highly unsatisfactory essays those couch potatoes at NYU just submitted, while contemplating just what the hell is up Angel's cute little ass. The anarchist absolutely had no idea why the drag queen suddenly became such a brooder. He was just not used to seeing the usually perky hermaphrodite in such a depressing mood. _She's_ usually the one who gets them out of those moods.

But for the love of everything that is holy, if Collins wanted to sulk, he would've gone straight to Roger. Heaven knows that if the professor just took one glance at the hermit, he would feel down right away. That's what Roger is, a brooding musician who looks like he gave up on life. It's a good thing Mark's there for him. Ever since Roger left for Santa Fe and got back, he and Mimi never got to patch things up.

Collins made a mental note to set the filmmaker up with the songwriter once he figured out his or rather Angel's problem is.

He checked his watch and found that it's been an hour since his last class ended; and much as he doubted that he could get anything out of his girl, he did want to come home and give her one big kiss. He fixed his things and got up to leave the room. He however had a hunch that the day isn't going to end anytime soon. Collins heaved out a sigh before he locked the room.

Hands in his pants pockets, the anarchist down the street and faced the cold autumn air. He was only a couple of blocks away from their apartment when he spotted a vendor selling roses. He decided to buy one for Angel, hoping that she's finally out of her "phases" as Collins had dubbed it.

Strange how roses reminded Collins of Angel. How he finds the drag queen and the flower beautiful; and just like the rose's thorns, can be a real pain in the behind when she wants to be. Yet he loves her more than life itself, and he makes sire that he says and shows that to her every time.

Collins snorted, funny how boredom can affect your way home.

The professor let out a sigh as he entered the apartment he put the rose on the table and found that Angel was… not quite Angel. The drag queen - who is currently sitting on the railings of the fire escape – was not in drag, and Collins could not help himself but stare for a while.

He was rally shocked too see Angel – his Angel – wearing normal _men's_ clothes; no wig, no platform boots, no make-up. Just a normal Angel Schunard who you'd hardly think was gay without the get up. He was so used to seeing her in those kinds of clothes that he forgot that this was the very same look she had when she showed up in the Alley a year ago and helped Collins recover when he got mugged.

He sighed; it really was going to be a long night. But he was still determined to get to the bottom of what's bugging his girl.

The taller man walked over to where she was sitting and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Hey baby. Something wrong?" he began – that's how he usually started the conversation now for the past weeks; and during those past weeks, he got no reaction. He wasn't so certain he wouldn't get one now.

Oh how wrong he was.

Angel faced him, her face devoid of any emotion; one would think this is a very bad impostor of the animated drag queen. "Honey, can you e perfectly honest with me?" she asked, and sounded serious about it too. "Sure thing baby, what's up?" Collins asked, concern laced in his voice.

Nothing could've prepared him from the answer he was going to get.

Nothing.

"Honey… do you… do you think I'm pretty?" she sounded so much like a five year old asking for her parents' reassurance if they still love her. By gods was he shocked beyond all reason. Then he just stared, and stared for just a little more. It started as a small chuckle, a few moments later; the anarchist was having a laughing fit.

He was actually torn between sighing and laughing, and apparently he chose laughing.

Angel took it the wrong way, pouted and began to stand up. Collins realizing this took her wrist and looped his arms around her waist so that his hands are now behind her back. He leaned in to kiss her pouting lips and smiled.

"Baby, you have no idea just how relieved you made me." He said as eh continued to trap her in his arms. He was still laughing but it's now reduced to an amused chuckle. The stress and migraine he got over this was so not worth it.

"Oh and why is that?" With her tone of voice, you'd think she was back to normal. However, she had that "say-something-stupid-and-I-swear-to-God…" look that always scared the shit out of him. Contrary to popular belief, Angel doesn't always play the role of an angel, she can be intimidating if she wanted to be at the moment; and she is now.

Collins just continued grinning and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Because you were suddenly so angsty and you brooded all the time. You started to remind me of Roger. I just wasn't used to seeing you so down, I thought you were having PMS or something." Collins knew his very weak attempt at a joke failed when Angel glared at him.

The anarchist rubbed the back of his head; he was actually having trouble on how to phrase his words… "Baby, I'm surprised you'd even have to ask that. You know you're beautiful, and I know you're beautiful. I'm not just talking about the physical beauty. You're a wonderful person baby; nothing anybody would say could ever change that fact. Baby, you've a very kind heart, and that's better than any physical beauty there is in this world." He finished his little speech with a quick peck on her lips. Heavens, he loves her so much. He just doesn't know what would happen once he lost her to AIDS.

Angel softly caressed his face, bringing it down so she could rest her forehead on his. "God, I love you so much. I'm so grateful I got to meet you; life's so much better when you're here." She kissed his chin, brushing lightly on the stubble and hugged him tightly which Collins readily returned.

He remembered the rose he bought and told Angel that he'll be back with something to give her. Collins went back to the table where he left it and came back with the flower on his right hand, his head bowed down while giving it to her. When he finally looked up, he couldn't help but smile. Angel had her most beautiful smile on her face, he wished he had a camera took take a snapshot of her right now. Collins can't help but think that her smile is so frickin' contagious. He can't help but feel very much satisfied with his life as of the moment.

He sighed a contented sigh; at least things are back to normal now. _Now,_ he thought, _how to get Mark and Roger together…_

_FIN _


End file.
